Just because Denzel Washington has two Oscars sitting somewhere in his house, it doesn't necessarily mean he can step onto a New York stage and deliver the goods. He has proven himself cinematically speaking, but this is live theater. You only get one take when the audience is sitting, watching and breathing a few feet away from you.

Broadway is adorned with big name Hollywood stars of late. It's a cyclical thing. Movie stars turn to Broadway for the work and quite possibly to legitimize their own acting skills.

But let's get back to Denzel. How is he in "Fences"? He is a force.

Yet if Mr. Washington commands presence and power in this production, you could credit the play - this one is all about the words and the way they are delivered. August Wilson's story about an African American family in the 1950s won the Pulitzer Prize for drama and also grabbed four Tony awards when it opened in 1987. But "Fences" couldn't stand on its own in 2010 if it were built on that legacy alone. FULL POST

I just recently became a tweeter on Twitter. After walking out of a screening of the new Robert Pattinson film "Remember Me," I tweeted just that. Suddenly my blackberry went into overdrive, and all incoming messages were from new Twitter followers. But really, they were all Robert Pattinson followers. I had no idea just how strong the power of Pattinson was until I witnessed it first hand.

Yesterday I interviewed R. Patz (as his fans affectionately call him) at the Regency Hotel here in New York. He was wearing an army-green jacket, a plain white-T and jeans. What really stood out was his hair. It was sticking straight up on top. It seemed to me that he was unlike most actors with preening stylists in tow. I liked that.

They held me right before it was my turn to go into his room. I could overhear one of the girls on headset saying, "Where are Robert’s lattes? It’s been a while." Soon a tray came up to the room with two metal pitchers. FULL POST

I covered US Weekly's annual event honoring the 25 most stylish New Yorkers here in Manhattan last night. The magazine honored recording artist Alicia Keys, designer Vera Wang, domestic maven Martha Stewart, models Elle MacPherson and Christie Brinkley and the Real Housewives of New York along with others.

The red carpet was tiny, more like a remnant than a carpet. But plenty of television crews crammed into the less than adequate space allotted to capture footage of the attendees. It was an overcrowded mess at times and especially when one particular honoree, Amber Rose, arrived.

Rose is the woman who has been seen on the arm of Kanye West in recent months. She accompanied West to the MTV Video Music Awards. There they walked the arrival line that evening without speaking to the press - as West carried a bottle of alcohol in one hand.

Last night, the moment Rose, with her signature blonde crew cut appeared out of the darkness the still photographers began their usual screaming match. She obliged for a time posing for photos, and then she tried to make her way down the less than sprawling carpet. Some of the journalists yelled: "How's Kanye? How's Kanye?"

A reporter from another network managed to get close to Rose. He asked her what designer she was wearing, she replied inaudibly, smiled and as the shouts became nearly deafening she managed to quickly make her escape down the carpet and past the press with the help of publicists. Then she was gone. Unscathed.

Do you think Amber Rose should have answered questions about Kanye West's behavior?

"Five Minutes of Heaven" isn’t a big budget film, but one of its stars came out to support it last night in New York.

Tall and stoic Liam Neeson stood before a somewhat disheveled group of photographers as they did their job snapping away flash after flash. Along with the stills, a small press presence of television crews gathered outside the screening room of the Tribeca Grand Hotel.

We were waiting for the chance to speak with Mr. Neeson on his first outing since the tragic loss of his wife Natasha Richardson in March. Well before his arrival journalists were advised not to ask any personal questions of the actor. The publicist escorting Mr. Neeson down the press line never left his side during interviews.

As Neeson stepped up to speak with me I extended my hand. "Hello darlin,'" he said softly in his Irish accent. You could see in his light eyes that something had dimmed; maybe the great loss he has suffered is simply explained on his face. No need for a journalist to probe further.

The mood at this event was unlike any premiere I've covered in the past. Most film premieres replete with sprawling red carpets are spectacles. Photographers shouting, salivating to capture one more pose, journalists angling for a few more seconds with the actors, and publicists at the ready waiting to pull their charges off the line and into the safety of the theater away from the hungry press.

Respectful is an adjective I would never have chosen to describe a film premiere. But last night it was just that.